


coming up lavender

by BabyVillanelle



Series: everything's growing in our garden [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Blood Magic, Chan has a lot of bad internalized gender thoughts at the beginning but he works through it, Elemental Magic, First Time Blow Jobs, Forest Sex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Misogyny, M/M, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27571336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyVillanelle/pseuds/BabyVillanelle
Summary: Chan has seen a lot, in his life, seen monsters and death and violence. He's seen magic do some truly horrible things, and some beautiful things too. He's seen his own mother conjure a meal for a hundred people in less than an hour. He once watched his father create a portal in their living room using only his own blood.He's never seen anything like this.Green, vibrant, living green, is the first thing he notices. Far too green for this time of year. Under his feet is springy grass, wet with dew, and all around him are birch trees, young and still full of growth. Above him is a canopy of leaves, dark green on one side and light on the other, and they shake in the breeze. It smells like growing things, like fresh dirt, just overturned in his mother's garden. Like things beginning.There are flowers, too, little blue ones, smaller than his pinky nail, scattered around the tree trunks.And in the middle of all these wonderful, impossible things, is Felix.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix
Series: everything's growing in our garden [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150184
Comments: 35
Kudos: 290





	coming up lavender

**Author's Note:**

> This is based a little bit on a lot of things, but mostly it is an AU (very loosely) based on a graphic novel called The Witch Boy by Molly Ostertag, but you definitely don't need to have read it to understand the plot. 
> 
> Title from Smoke Signals by Phoebe Bridgers because I'm gay and predictable.

Felix is Chan's responsibility.

Ever since the day that Felix and his mother arrived, terrified and smelling of smoke, on his family’s doorstep, Felix has belonged to Chan.

He doesn’t remember now if someone had taken Felix's sticky toddler hand and placed it in Chan's, or if Felix had grabbed Chan's hand himself.

Any time Felix was late for dinner, or missed out on classes, all eyes in the room went to Chan. And that was happening more and more often, Chan notes as he crunches through the undergrowth in the forest behind their house. It's really around their house, extending for miles in every direction, but the path that Felix likes to take starts at the bottom of their garden, through a gap in the tumble-down stone wall.

This is the third day this week, Chan thinks angrily, kicking at an overgrown patch of thorns that has grown into the path. The third day that he's shown up to his father’s classroom in the basement and been shouted at because Felix is missing.

And Felix is Chan's responsibility.

So Chan is out here in the early winter cold, tugging brambles free from his unzipped coat, silently cursing Felix under his breath as he jogs through the woods. If he finds him in the next fifteen minutes, they'll only miss half of class, and his father won't absolutely kill him. There will still be punishments, of course, but it won't be as bad. Chan doesn't even want to think about what will happen if he doesn't find Felix soon.

He doesn't understand Felix, not anymore, not like how he used to when they were little. Like when Felix was six and he was nine and they were the only two people that existed in the world. Felix was the best at coming up with games for them to play, the best at building forts, at finding the best hiding spots. Chan's brothers made fun of him, but that hadn't mattered. Not when he had gap-toothed Felix, tugging him by the hand to show him whatever new adventure he'd created just for the two of them.

No, Chan doesn't understand Felix. Last year, before he'd turned eighteen, Felix had begged, every day, following Chan around the house, the garden, to be let into the defensive magic class with the other boys. He'd wanted it so badly, driven Chan crazy with it. Chan had even overheard him begging his mom to be let in early. But there were rules in Chan’s family and they couldn't be broken for anyone. So Felix had had to wait.

Chan still remembers the morning that Felix was set to join the other boys in the basement. He'd climbed into Chan's bed before sunrise, pressing his cold toes against Chan's shins and making him shriek. He'd woken up to Felix's laughter, inches from his face, wrinkled nose, giggle like a bell, freckles everywhere. Chan had felt-

_No. Forget that. Skip that part._

Felix had been so giddy, waiting outside the door, gripping Chan's upper arm with his ludicrously tiny fingers, that Chan had been a little embarrassed, in front of his older brothers, his cousins.

Mostly though, he'd been proud, proud to show Felix the things he could do, proud to let Felix into this world of magic that he'd only gotten glimpses of before.

That was the way it worked, in Chan's family. The way it had always worked. Before they turned eighteen, all children learned the same magic. Potions, spells, runes, that kind of thing. The basics. Once they were adults, they were seperated.

Girls learned useful magic, housekeeping spells, nature spells, healing spells. They learned how to make things grow and flourish and sparkle. Boys, on the other hand, learned the other side of magic; curses, spells that required blood and bone and sacrifice.

It sounds rough, on the surface, Chan guesses, but that's the way his family has always done things. Why would he question that? It's kept them safe for generations.

Felix had stopped being excited after the second class. Chan remembers that much. The look he’d seen on Felix’s face that day still makes Chan feel slimy, insides slithering with something dark and awful. They'd been asked to work through a blood spell, which, granted, was a little gross. And blood spells required, well, blood. But wasn't it better, in the scheme of things, to use rabbit blood, rather than human? And anyway, it was routine. Chan didn't understand why Felix had reacted so strongly.

After that, Felix had started spending more time in the woods, more time with their mothers in the kitchen. Chan's brothers and cousins had started to make jokes about him, jokes of the kind that they'd been making all of Felix's life, but now with a more sinister edge. The message was pretty clear though; Felix is _different_ , Felix is _wrong_ , Felix isn't _one of us_.

Chan kicks hard at a stone in his path, trying to dislodge it from the dirt, hit something satisfying to get rid of the edge of his anger. But the stone must have been bigger than he thought because it doesn't budge, just bangs against his toes, makes him bend at the waist with the pain. He swears, loud, and a few birds fly out of a tree next to him, squawking indignantly. He swears at them, too, for good measure.

He walks around a big oak in the path, limping a little, and finds Felix, finally, on his knees in a clearing. Chan is about to call out to him, to tell him off for being late, again. But Felix is bent over, concentrating hard, and something tells Chan to wait. So he does, pauses by the tree, resting his hand against it's rough bark. And he watches.

Felix is doing something with his hands, speaking slowly, his unusually deep voice lower than a whisper, saying things Chan can't catch. It's only when Felix moves that Chan can see what he's doing. In between his hands, his lovely fingers with rings on every other knuckle, there is a flower growing. One, solitary wildflower, vivid purple against the brown dirt, blossoming under Felix's palms.

It's fear, pure and simple, that pushes Chan into the clearing, that has him grabbing the back of Felix's shirt, hauling him up with shaking hands.

"What are you doing?" he says between his teeth. Felix looks up at him with something shocked and sad in his eyes. He's never looked at Chan like that before. Another face to haunt him, Chan thinks.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Felix says, chin tilted up, bottom lip stuck out in a pout. That fear strikes another chord in Chan's chest, deep and primal. Felix can't be doing this. It shouldn't be possible at all, from what Chan knows, this is nature magic, Felix shouldn't be able to do this. That's not what Chan is thinking at first, though. The only thing he is thinking about is the look on his father’s face, if he were to see this. The look on his grandfather’s face, or even his mother’s. They would be furious. There would be punishments, for Chan, yes, but that's not what he thinks about first. No, he thinks about what they will do to Felix. What they do to people that don't put the family first, that don't uphold tradition.

What they do to people that are dangerous.

Chan is terrified. He will remind himself of this later, over and over and over again, that he was scared, and that is why he does what he does. He glances down at the flower, and he's sure objectively it is beautiful, but to Chan it just looks like one of the dark omens he's been taught to recognize in scrying mirrors. It looks like a threat.

So he crushes it under his boot, smearing the vibrant petals into the dirt until they are something unrecognizable. The second he does it he wants to take it back, but he can't. He looks up at Felix, and feels that horrible pang of guilt because Felix's eyes are filling with tears. He wipes them away with his fingers, quick, like he's angry at himself for crying at all.

Chan is still panicked, but he grips the front of Felix's jean jacket, angling him away from the house, so Chan's body is in between him and the path. If anyone were to follow them out here, they wouldn't see Felix's tears. He does this without thinking. A reflex built on years and years of one instinct:

Protect Felix. At all costs, protect Felix.

Even if it makes Felix hate him.

"Okay, this is what we're going to do," Chan says, "We're going to go back to the house and we're going to class," Felix starts to shake his head, but Chan carries on, "Yes, we are. Because my father will kill us if we don't. We're going to class and we're going to eat dinner with the family and then we're going upstairs and you're going to tell me everything. Do you understand?"

Felix doesn't answer, just looks down at the forest floor. Chan shakes him, just a little, holding him by the shoulders, "Felix, please."

Felix nods, finally, and Chan can breathe again.

"Okay," he says, brightly, nodding, "It's gonna be fine."

Felix shrugs Chan's hands off of his shoulders and walks away down the path, back towards the house. Chan jogs to catch up with him.

They get yelled at when they get back to class, Chan's father screaming about responsibility and upholding the family name, but Chan barely hears him, just keeps glancing at Felix, who looks so tired, so small, nodding in agreement when prompted. He doesn't cry again, and Chan is painfully glad for that.

Dinner at their house is a hectic affair. There are fifteen of them all together, including Chan's parents, his brothers, his older sister, his aunt and uncle, his cousins, his grandfather, and Felix and his mom. They aren't related by blood, but Felix's family and Chan's family have been close allies for centuries. When Felix was just a kid, his family home had been destroyed in a fire that took most of the family with it. Felix's mother and her infant son were the only survivors.

Chan’s father always talks about how much of a sacrifice it had been for the family, that they’d taken Felix and his mother in.

Chan's mother and Felix's had been childhood friends, and so when his grandfather refused to take in the strays, she had begged on their behalf. She'd look after Felix's mom, teach her the ropes, and Chan would look out for Felix, keep him out of trouble. They'd had to renounce ties with the family that raised them, the clan that didn't exist anymore, and they had completed a ritual that made them officially part of Chan's family. Their blood was different, but the magic that ran through their veins, that buzzed on the surface of their skin, that was the same. Felix was family.

Even if right now it didn't look that way, with everyone talking and yelling and stuffing their faces with food, and Felix sitting silent, arms crossed, at Chan's side. Felix never really meshed with Chan's brothers and cousins, but he usually held his own at dinner, laughing a little, eating a lot. But today he wasn't saying a word, wasn't touching his food. Chan fought the urge to nudge him, to try to get him to participate in dinner conversation. Chan doesn't particularly feel like talking right now, either, but if they both were sulking, it would draw attention to them. And in this house, that wasn't always a good idea.

Up in their room, after they had both gotten ready for bed, Chan lay there in the dark, watching the clouds move across the stars outside. They could see so many stars, from where they were. A whole galaxy, spread across the sky like spilled sugar. Chan's grandfather used the stars to predict the future, to see little things that would affect the family, the house. When Chan was small, his grandfather had taught him the constellations, the real constellations, not the ones you learned about in books, he’d said.

Chan sighs, shifting under his blankets. Across the room, Felix is quiet, but Chan can tell by his breathing that he's not asleep. Sharing a room for most of their lives has taught them to be painfully familiar with each other. Chan is pretty sure he's seen Felix's body more than his own, might know it better, might even-

_Focus, Chan. Focus._

He breathes in, then out.

"Want to tell me what you were up to?" Chan asks, turning on his side so he's facing Felix's bed.

"It was nothing," Felix says, on his back, staring resolutely up at the ceiling. His hands are crossed over his chest, fingers threaded together, "Just something I was trying. Saw it in a book."

"Liar," Chan says, because he knows Felix's voice, knows how he clips his sentences when he's bending the truth. Felix just doesn't usually lie to him, "That wasn't nothing. You practiced that. You've done it before."

As he says it, he realizes it's true, that it has to be true. That the magic he'd seen could only be the result of weeks of practice and careful study. He'd seen his sister do the same thing, trying and failing at getting a single rose to bloom on the bush outside their front door. Did someone teach him how to do this? Did Sana teach him? His mother? Chan’s mother?

Doubtful. They were unlikely to teach Felix a forbidden form of magic. No, not forbidden. Impossible. What Felix did was _impossible_. That’s what he’s always been told.

"Lixie, come on," Chan pleads, using his childhood nickname to weaken Felix's defenses, "You can tell me. I promise I won't be mad."

"Liar," Felix says, finally turning on his side to look at Chan. How many times have they done this, had whispered conversations long into the night, laughing, telling each other childish secrets? Chan doesn't know, but this feels different, "You're already mad. I saw you, in the woods. You were angry with me."

A spike of pain, right up under Chan's ribs, because Felix is right. And he hates it, hates that he was angry, hates that he might still be angry. Hates that it was something that he did that is making Felix look at him so coldly.

Chan usually loves the way Felix looks at him, the smiles he gets, the way Felix used to have to look up to see him, to stick his tongue out at him over breakfast, and now he doesn't have to do that anymore, now they are the same height, or just about. Now Felix can look him in the eye, but until today, the expressions hadn't changed. Even though they’d started to grow apart, Felix had still looked at him like he was something special.

"I'm sorry," Chan says, and he means it with all that he is, "I was a jerk. I just didn't want you to get in trouble. I won't get mad again, I swear. Just tell me the truth. How did you do that?"

He can't help the wonder, the surprise, that sneaks into his voice right at the end. If he were to be completely honest with himself, some secret part of him is a little bit impressed.

"Okay. Okay," Felix says, "I'll tell you, but you have to promise to keep it a secret."

Chan nods. Felix sits up in bed, pulling a worn quilt over his shoulders. Chan’s grandmother had made it before she died. It's been Felix's, anyway, since the day he'd arrived. He slips out of his bed and crosses the room to Chan's. He's thrumming with excitement. It's all over his face. Like he's been desperate to tell somebody and was waiting for the chance. A dangerous thing to want, in this house. Secrets aren't easily kept.

Chan sits up quickly. Keeps his distance, moving his legs to make room for Felix to sit without touching him. Around them, the house creaks as it settles in its foundation. It's dark outside their little window, real dark, pitch black, no streetlights or car headlights. The only light on them is Chan's bedside table lamp with it's weak bulb, casting light on Felix's familiar features.

 _He's so pretty, isn't he, your Felix?_ Sana had asked him just a few months ago. She'd been working in the garden, growing vegetables for their table, tending to her herb garden for their mother's pantry. Chan had gone out to tell her something, and Felix had been sitting out in the field next to the garden, reading a book in the tall grass. Chan had cut a glance at her. A dangerous thing to say. A dangerous thing for him to agree to. Sana knew that. And yet she just grinned wider, tipping her brimmed hat back and adjusting the basket on her hip.

He doesn't remember what he'd said, if he'd said anything at all or just brushed her off and gone back inside.

Your Felix.

His Felix.

 _No, Chan, for fucks sake_.

 _Listen_.

"The first thing you have to know is that I didn't mean for this to happen," Felix says, and his eyes are so painfully earnest that Chan believes him, "I wanted to be like you, like your dad, your brothers. And then lessons started and they were _awful_ , Chan I'm sorry but they were. And nothing like I had expected. The way you all talked about them, I thought… I don't know what I thought. But I wasn't expecting that. Death and darkness."

Felix shudders. Chan wants to understand, he does, but part of him thinks that Felix is wrong. He has to be. He's misunderstood the lessons, somehow. Chan had been freaked out too at the very beginning, but he'd gotten over it. Couldn't Felix just get over it too?

"I couldn't do it, Chan," Felix says, twisting his fingers into Chan's blanket. His voice is so small and vulnerable and everything in Chan is screaming at him to _protect_. But from what? Chan isn't sure he knows, "I'm sorry, but I couldn't. So I started spending more time with your mom, and mine, and Sana. And I read books from the library. I wanted to know if something was wrong with me because I .. I couldn't do the kind of magic I was supposed to."

 _You didn't try hard enough_ , is Chan's first, mean, awful thought. Does he really mean that? He'd never say that out loud, not to Felix, never. But he’d thought it. It was on his tongue, he almost wasn't fast enough to stop it. He bites his cheek, hard.

"And I don't know, I just started trying cleaning spells at first, just little ones, clearing away the dust from the books, and they _worked_ ," he says, excited and sincere, and Chan's mind searches for another explanation because that's. Not. Possible, "Then I tried little growing spells, in the woods, on things that were already growing. Those were harder. Way harder. What you saw today… that was the first time I was able to make something grow."

Felix looks down at the blanket again, smooths out the wrinkles. Chan wants to cry and he's not sure why.

"I'm- _god_ , Lix, I'm really sorry," he says, and he doesn't deserve Felix's easy forgiveness, but he gets it, a shrug and a smile, a terrifyingly earnest whisper.

"Can I show you something?" Felix asks eagerly, "Not now, but like, this weekend? Sunday afternoon maybe?"

And what is Chan supposed to say? How can he refuse him?

And besides, he reminds himself, the more he knows, the better he can protect him.

"Yeah, of course," he says, voice rough. Felix's responding smile is worth the crushing guilt he feels, the overwhelming sensation that this is wrong, that he shouldn't be encouraging this, "Just. Promise me you'll go to class. All week, yeah? And I'll come with you on Sunday."

Felix frowns, nose wrinkling, but he nods. Relief floods Chan's system. That's three whole days of Felix behaving, three whole days where he won't have to go out looking for him, three days where Chan won't be yelled at. Three days where Felix will be safe.

* * *

Sundays are when they drive their shitty car the ten miles into town. The family car is a clattering, rusty thing, held together with Sana's magic. Chan usually goes with her, but he begs out of it this weekend, walking past Sana as she inspects the car for weak spots in her mechanical spellwork. When she catches sight of him, he waves, holds up his skateboard from under his arm. He lets his coat ride up enough so she can see the pack of cigarettes in his front pocket.

She rolls her eyes but waves him on. It's a perfect cover actually, doubly so because his father will assume he's with Sana and Sana will assume he's being moody by the lake, skating and smoking and listening to emo boy music like Sana already knows he does sometimes.

But really he'll be with Felix. That thought alone sends a dangerous thrill up his spine, the idea that they will be together all day and nobody will know. They could be sneaking off to do anything.

Sneaking off with Felix. Just once, He rolls the sentence around in his mind just for the thrill of sparks it sets off across his skin. Then he tucks it away, zipping up his thick fall coat, a hand-me-down from his older brother, still two sizes too big and worn at the cuffs.

After Sana drives off, he skates down their driveway and onto the main road, enjoying for a moment the feeling of the asphalt under his wheels, the occasional dry crunch of brown leaves.

He wants a cigarette, badly, but he leaves them in his pocket because Felix doesn't like the way he smells when he smokes.

There's a path that's impossible to see from the main road, partially because it's been obscured by bushes and half because Chan has disguised it with his own home-brewed concealment charm. Anyone looking for it would find their eyes sliding off of it and onto the next patch of underbrush.

He stores his skateboard by a tree, covers it in leaves and a quick charm for good measure. It doesn't need much, since Chan has spent enough time carrying it around, riding it, loving it, that it has quite a bit of his magic in it already. Hard to find, if you're not Chan.

He makes his way through the woods, until he reaches the clearing that he found Felix in earlier in the week. It's a long roundabout way to get there but Chan had insisted on it, not wanting them to get caught.

He looks around, but Felix hasn't gotten there yet. Over the last few days he's had quite a bit of time to think about the magic he'd seen Felix doing. Maybe it's like a Felix specific thing. Maybe he's just really powerful, can do all types of magic. But no, that doesn't make sense to Chan either. He's seen Felix in class. He can't do a simple spell to call a dagger to his side, and he's never been able to see anything in their obsidian scrying glass.

He hears a rustle in the trees above him then, and looks up, catching a glimpse of faded blue denim among the leaves. He sighs.

"Felix?" he calls, but there's no response, "If you fall we're going to have to explain what we were doing in the woods together."

"I won't fall," Felix calls down to him from somewhere Chan can't see, "I never fall."

"Okay, good for you," Chan starts, searching between the branches, "Can you just-"

There's a thud behind him and he spins around to see Felix, crouched on the ground, grinning up at him like he's bested him at some game Chan hadn't known they were playing.

"You worry too much," Felix says, standing and brushing leaves from his coat, "Ready?"

 _Not at all_.

"Lead the way," Chan says. Felix beams. He bounds off through the woods, following some path only he can see. Chan has to trod along behind him, carefully ducking under branches that Felix easily dodges.

After a half an hour, they are deep in the forest, and an eerie quiet settles over them. Dark trees lean in from all sides. Chan would never admit it, but he gets a little scared when he’s this far outside the magic boundary that protects their house. If Felix left him here, Chan would be stranded. He's no good with navigation and the forest certainly isn't going to help him.

Chan can protect himself well enough, knows the spells for a hundred different things, can conjure a weapon from thin air, can protect himself and Felix if need be. But he can't feel the trees, feel nature the way he knows his sisters can, his mom can. Felix's mom, too. Chan has seen her locate a diseased part of a tree and heal it just through touch. He looks at Felix up ahead of him, excitedly striding forward, his sneakers crunching through leaves. Can Felix do that stuff too? Can he hear the trees?

Felix stops at the crest of a hill, and when Chan catches up to him, he points down to an old ruin on the other side. There's dark green ivy growing over it, and what looks like a pile of old shopping carts against one crumbling wall. It’s mostly concrete, but some parts are wooden, wet and mouldering with age.

Chan turns to Felix, looks at him questioningly, his eyebrows furrowed. Felix just grins, then his hand jerks like he was about to grab Chan's hand, then thought better of it. He puts his hands in his pockets instead. There was a time, not that long ago, that Felix would have taken Chan's hand without a second thought, fit their palms together and dragged him along behind him. They've changed a lot, these last few years.

"C'mon," Felix says, his smile back. He scampers down the hill and ducks through an opening in the ruins that Chan now sees kind of resembles a doorway. Or what used to be one, anyway. As soon as he's gone, the forest gets darker, deadly still. Chan would swear the birds stop singing. It's probably all in his head, he's out of his element out here. Felix's head pops around the corner, "Come onnn"

Chan gulps and follows him through the doorway, moving hanging leaves out of the way.

It's like stepping into another world. He blinks, then steps back out through the doorway. He looks around just to make sure everything is the same outside, then comes back in.

Chan has seen a lot, in his life, seen demons and monsters and death and violence. He's seen magic do some truly horrible things, and some beautiful things too. He's seen his own mother conjure a meal for a hundred people in less than an hour. He once watched his father create a portal in their living room using only his own freshly spilled blood.

He's never seen anything like this.

Green, vibrant, living green, is the first thing he notices. Far too green for this time of year. Under his feet is springy grass, wet with dew, and all around him are birch trees, young and still full of growth. Above him is a canopy of teardrop shaped leaves, dark green on one side and light on the other, and they shake and rattle in the breeze. The breeze is a summer wind, warm and refreshing on his face. It smells like growing things, like fresh dirt, just overturned in his mother's garden. Like things beginning.

There are flowers, too, little blue ones, smaller than his pinky nail, scattered around the tree trunks.

And in the middle of all these wonderful, impossible things, is Felix.

Little Felix with his freckles and his high tops, nervously waiting to see what Chan will say.

"Wow," is all Chan can think of. He turns on the spot, neck craned back so he can see the blue sky between the leaves, " _Felix,_ wow."

"Do you like it?"

Does he? He doesn't know. He knows it scares the shit out of him. He knows too much about magic to be impressed so easily by something beautiful. Magic needs a source, something must have made this.

"Felix," Chan starts, his mouth dry, "How did you find this?"

Felix shrugs, one shoulder up by his ear.

"Hey," Chan says, crossing the springy grass to where Felix is standing, "I can help you with...with whatever this is. I can keep your secret. I just need you to be honest with me."

And a lot has changed, these last few months, but Chan isn't lying. Would never lie to Felix.

"Okay," Felix says hesitantly, "Don't laugh. But I think...the forest led me here?"

Chan is not laughing. He doesn't know a lot about the forest around their house, which now seems ludicrous. It's literally all around them at all times, shouldn't he have learned more? Either way, what he does know is that there are demons in these woods, and a creature his brothers only call “the beast”.

"What does that mean?" Chan asks, trying to keep the grave feeling creeping over him out of his voice.

"I was out here, learning how to talk to plants, like I said, and I think, I don't know how to explain this, but I think the trees," Felix looks up at Chan, then away again, "I think the trees like me."

In another life, another place, another _Chan,_ those words might have made him roll his eyes. But he knows too much. And part of him believes it. He smiles a little, despite himself. Felix's whole demeanor changes, his shoulders relaxing, at the sight of Chan's smile. Like he was waiting for it. Like it was so vital to him that Chan be okay with this.

"I mean," Chan says, letting himself relax just a little bit, "I don't blame them."

And Felix _glows_. Sweetest smile he's ever seen. It kicks Chan right in the gut.

"Alright, little one," Chan says, relenting, "Show me what you can do."

What he can do, it turns out, is a lot. His magic seems stronger here. Which, Chan is kind of ashamed to admit, are two words he never thought would go together; Felix and Strong.

He's spent most of his life protecting this scrawny kid, teaching him, helping him with spells, sticking up for him when he got picked on.

Felix, here, is a new version of Felix he's never seen before. Felix, here, has things to teach him. He shows Chan the grass that he stepped on to walk to the center of the ruins, how it's bent and broken. And then he runs his hand through it, like he's petting a cat, loving and tender, and the blades spring back to life, unbent and whole.

Chan sits down, cross-legged, and watches.

Felix shrugs out of his jacket, leaving it on the grass beside Chan. He works in just a dark red t-shirt, sleeves cuffed, arms stronger than Chan remembers.

"Watch this," Felix says, "I've been practicing."

Chan can't imagine taking his eyes off of him for even a moment. He can’t imagine anything more beautiful than this; Felix in his element.

He stands at the center of the ruins, hands outstretched, and all around him, flowers grow. White and yellow and royal purple, snaking up around his legs until they reach his waist. Chan might almost say that they _like_ him, flower buds nudging against his side like puppies. Felix giggles, runs his hands over them.

It makes Chan want to laugh too, even though he knows he shouldn't, knows he should be afraid, but he can't help it. Felix looks so happy. How could he take this away from him?

* * *

He can't, is the answer. He can't and he won't.

There are so few secrets in this house, so few things that are just his. Chan wants to hold onto this for as long as he can. Eventually, he knows, they'll have to give it up.

That doesn't mean he's not curious. He does his own research, sneaks books up to his room from the family library, tries to figure out why Felix can do what he can do, why he can do something that they've been told their whole lives is impossible.

Felix had kept up going to class, which was Chan's only stipulation to keeping his secret. If Felix went to class, Chan wouldn't tell anyone about what he could do, and Chan would come with him to the ruins whenever they got free time.

Felix seemed to get stronger every time they were out there, more beautiful. He’s grown his hair out and Sana has been charming it dirty blonde for him. It’s striking, especially with his freckles, and seems to give Felix a confidence that scares the shit out of Chan.

They're in class one afternoon, practicing banishing spells on a relatively small demon that his father had conjured. Over the last year since Felix has been coming to classes with the rest of the boys, Chan has gotten into the habit of covering for him, taking extra time to run down the clock, make sure Felix wasn't forced to embarrass himself by attempting spells he couldn't do. He's doing that today, standing in between Felix and the demon as his brothers and cousins attempt to banish it. A few of them manage to weaken it, fading it so it's body appears more and more translucent.

Felix, whispers, "Let me try."

Before Chan can answer, Felix is stepping around him, raising his hands and before Chan can say anything, there's a gust of wind, a pull of air like a vacuum, and the demon is gone.

Chan isn't proud to admit it, but he avoids Felix for the rest of the day. He doesn't meet his eye at dinner, focusing on his own plate.

Felix waits until they're both in bed to say anything about it.

"Hey," he whispers after Chan turns their light off. Chan grunts in response, "Are you mad at me?"

It’s not until Felix asks that he realizes that he is. The amount of times he’s protected Felix, tried to teach him defensive magic, which he’d thought, especially after this week, was something that he just couldn’t do. But obviously he can, so why hadn’t he tried before now? How much pain and trouble would it have saved the two of them if Felix had just done what he was supposed to do. If Felix had just. Had just.

_Had just acted like a man._

Chan has the thought and then immediately recoils from it like he’s been burned. It’s something his father says to him, all the time. _Act like a man._ How much damage has that one sentence caused him? How much hurt?

He refuses to put that on Felix. He will not act like his father.

He breathes through his anger, lets it go, feels it dissolve like smoke.

"No," Chan says, sighing, rolling onto his side so his back is to the window and he can just barely see Felix in the next bed. The moon is only half full tonight, so Chan can only see his vague shape, his profile in silver, "I’m sorry. I just needed to come up here and think about some stuff."

Felix nods, rustling under his sheets.

" _I didn't know_ ," Felix whispers, " _I didn't know I could do that._ "

"You guessed though, didn't you," Chan asks, and Felix finally stops fidgeting, "You had a feeling it would work."

"Maybe, but it was only a guess, I wanted to try it out, and I didn't know a better place than in front of a demon," Felix says.

Chan opens his mouth to speak but there’s a creak of floorboards out in the hallway. They both freeze and Chan gets out of bed, crossing the room to the door. He pauses and listens.

He bites down, hard on the inside of his cheek, his mouth filling with blood. He takes hold of his magic and puts two fingers in his mouth, coating them with his now ice-cold blood, and drags them across the wood of the door in the shape of a protective sigil.

As soon as he finishes, the red design glows white and vanishes into the wood.

That specific spell isn’t perfectly suited for silencing, but it will muffle their voices, and send anyone who passes by the door walking away in the opposite direction.

He gets back in bed, facing Felix, his back against the wall next to the window. Felix is looking at him strangely, his eyes dark and focused. It’s so intent that Chan wipes at his lips with his sleeve, getting any remaining blood.

“What?”

Felix blinks, shaking his head.

“Nothing, sorry,” Felix says, “I just. Haven’t seen you do that in a while.”

When he's tired, his voice drops even lower than usual and it makes Chan' scalp tingle. Chan pulls his blanket up over his shoulders.

"Can we try something on Sunday? I have another theory."

"Sure, Felix," Chan says, "Of course."

* * *

"Focus," Felix says, "You have to _focus,_ Chan."

Chan cracks one eye open. Felix is sitting across from him, holding onto his hands, which are settled on his knees. It's warmer than usual in the ruins today, the summer breeze less cooling and more oppressive. Chan's palms are sweating, and he has no idea what he's supposed to be focusing on.

"Breathe in," Felix says quietly, his low voice mixing with the sounds of the forest, birds, branches swaying and cracking, "Try to listen to the forest. You need something to keep you centered. I usually try to focus on what the ground underneath me feels like. Is it dry? Rocky? Is there any moisture near the surface? I focus hard enough on that, and then I feel it."

"Feel what?" Chan asks, opening his eyes and taking his hands out of Felix's. He wipes his palms on his jeans, "I don't feel anything, Felix. I don't think this is gonna work. I'm sorry."

"Please, c'mon," Felix says, a whine creeping into his voice, "You said you'd try."

"I did!" Chan says, flopping back onto the grass, "And nothing happened. I could feel my magic like always, but nothing like what you said."

What Felix is asking him to search for is too slippery for him to grasp. _Women's magic,_ his brain scoffs, an echo of something he's heard his father say, mocking and dismissive.

Felix's face falls, and Chan can see his embarrassed disappointment in the way he's holding his mouth. He'd really wanted this to work. Chan pushes up onto his elbows.

"Alright, fine," Chan says, "One more time. But that's it, okay?"

Felix brightens, and a tendril of cool breeze blows through the clearing, rustling the grass. Felix gets to his feet, walks around in a wide circle centered on Chan.

"Okay," he says when he reaches the spot directly behind Chan's head, "I have an idea. Lay back."

Chan obeys hesitantly, and Felix sits down behind him, cross-legged, bending over to look into Chan's eyes upside down.

"I know what your problem is," Felix says.

Chan looks up at his face, eyes skimming over his rounded cheekbones, his perfect bow of a mouth, and thinks _No, you don't._

"You think too much."

Felix touches his forehead, flat so Chan can feel the warmth of his palm and the cool silver of his rings. He rests his hand there for a moment, like he's not sure what to do now that he's touched Chan.

Chan doesn't remember the last time Felix touched him at all, let alone touched him like this. His heart is pounding wildly, and he can't stop himself from flinching the second Felix moves. He's so keyed up, so tense with the effort of laying still.

"Close your eyes," Felix says, dropping his already low voice down to a rumbling whisper that sends waves of chills down Chan's spine, "Focus on my voice."

Chan realizes with a jolt that he’s echoing Chan's own words. They’re things he used to say when Felix was little.

When Felix had first arrived, he'd had nightmares, really bad ones that had him waking up, whimpering in the dark. Chan hadn't known what to do at first, had wanted to tell his mom, but she'd said that Felix was his responsibility, and he didn't want her to think he couldn't handle that. So he just did what he thought he would have wanted, if he'd had a nightmare, and crossed the room, rubbing sleep from his eyes and crawled into Felix's bed, brushing his hair back, and talked to him until he fell asleep again.

Felix doesn't have those nightmares anymore, or if he does he doesn't wake Chan up. The last time Chan helped him fall asleep was five or six years ago.

He feels a swell of sadness rise in the back of his throat when he realizes what Felix is doing, and he gets the strange urge to curl up in Felix's lap and cry until he can't anymore.

He closes his eyes.

"Good," Felix says above him, moving his hand and stroking his hair up off of his forehead, "Now just breathe, in and out, slow."

Chan breathes, but his exhale comes out shaking. Felix hushes him.

"You can let go, it's okay," Felix says, "There's nobody here, just, um, just me."

Chan opens one eye, and Felix is blushing a little. He sees Chan looking and blushes deeper. Chan can’t help but smile.

"Hey. Close your eyes," he says, covering Chan's eyes with his hand. Chan squirms a little, adjusting his back on the grass. Felix removes his hand, and Chan keeps his eyes closed, tries to take another deep breath.

"Okay. Good," Felix says, stroking Chan's forehead again, rubbing his oddly strong fingers in firm circles against his brow bone. It feels nicer than Chan was expecting, and despite the anxiety still curled in his stomach, he starts to relax.

"This is gonna sound weird, but don't laugh," Felix says, "I want you to listen. But not with your ears, with your magic. Can you do that?" he hesitates, then adds, "Can you do that for me?"

_Dammit._

Chan tries, he really does, but he can't feel anything. He shakes his head under Felix's hand.

"Okay," Felix says, "That's okay. Let's try something else. Here. How do you do magic?"

"Uh, I'm not sure," Chan says, wrinkling his forehead. He's never thought about that before. Magic isn't something he thinks about, it's just something he _does,_ a practiced movement, like balancing on his skateboard. Something his body does without trying, "I guess it's kind of like, I dunno, grabbing something? Like picking up something familiar."

"Okay. What does it feel like?"

"Cold, I guess," Chan says, trying to picture it, that feeling when he does a spell and it comes to him naturally, "But not, not like ice is cold, more like how metal is cold? Like it's cool when I touch it but it warms up in my hands."

"And it's always there?" Felix asks, "When you reach for it, it's always right there?"

"Yeah?" Chan says, confused. Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?

Felix hums, stroking his hair. Chan lets go, feels more of his body relax into the ground.

"Okay," Felix says, "I want you to reach for your magic, but not grab it, does that make sense? Leave your hand open."

Chan sighs, but he tries it anyway, keeping most of his focus on Felix's fingers, his voice in his ear, and reaches. He feels his own magic, at his side like a sword in his belt, but he doesn't grab for it like always. He waits, and finally he feels something, gentle, hesitant at first, then it rises up to meet him like it's been waiting for him. He pulls, hard and insistent, getting a good grip for a moment before the feeling vanishes entirely, leaving him like a sucking breath. He gasps, flailing out and scrambling up to sit, breathing hard.

"What the _fuck,"_ Chan pants, his hand over his chest. "Felix. What the fuck was that?"

That was _way_ more powerful than what Felix had described, wasn't it? He'd expected, well, he'd expected nothing to be honest, but he'd always pictured nature magic as straightforward, planting and growing and repairing. That was something _big_ and _old._ Something strong.

He turns around, and Felix is looking down at the grass underneath them.

"You did it," he says, voice filled with awe. Chan looks down. All around them in a circle, the grass is no longer green but a pale, sickly yellow. Chan touches it and it crumbles, dry and lifeless in his hand.

Had he? This wasn't what Felix had done, growing flowers in bright colors and healing things. No, Chan had done pretty much the opposite of that.

"I killed it," Chan says, looking up in dismay, and Felix smiles.

"Nah," he says, getting to his feet, "Watch this."

He keeps his eyes on Chan and makes a gentle, slow rotation with his hand, and the grass springs back to life underneath them.

"Plants are pretty resilient," Felix says, sitting back down next to a bewildered Chan, "I sapped the life out of a five-hundred-year-old willow, my first time."

"Really?" Chan asks, his heart still beating wildly. Felix nods.

"The forest was pretty mad at me until I figured out how to fix it."

"How do you know it was mad at you?

"Oh lots of ways," Felix says nonchalantly, "It changes the paths around, makes me get lost. Tries to scare me, makes me see things in the trees."

"Holy shit, what?"

Felix just laughs. He sounds so relieved that Chan can't help but smile a little too.

"It's fine, we're friends now," Felix says, and Chan gives him a bewildered look, "Right?!"

The last word he calls out to the forest around him. There's no response. Chan laughs and Felix pouts.

* * *

Chan and his brothers and cousins share the responsibility of recharging the spell on the boundary stones and this full moon, it's Chan's turn.

It's freezing, the winter night still and cloudless. The moon bathes everything in a silver glow as Chan walks from stone to stone, placing his hand on their side and reciting the incantation.

He gets halfway around their property before he starts to lose feeling in his fingers. He ducks behind a stone and crouches so he's hidden from view from the house's windows. He lights a cigarette and buries his other hand in his armpit, trying to stay warm.

He looks at the patch of dry earth at his feet, crunchy with ice crystals. He wonders if Felix could make something grow here.

He wonders if he could make something grow. Some part of him still recoils from the idea, but an even larger part is kind of dying to know. He and Felix have been practicing, and last week Chan managed to convince a birch tree to turn it's leaves from vibrant green to pale yellow and then back again. Small things still. Chan is afraid, still. Afraid of messing up, of getting caught, and most of all afraid that everything he knows about magic is a lie.

He hears footsteps and panics, leaping to his feet and stamping out his cigarette.

"It's just me," comes Felix's voice from the darkness, and Chan's whole body relaxes.

" _Shit_ , Felix," Chan says, clutching his chest, "I thought you were my dad."

"No, gross," Felix says, picking his way through the brush, finally emerging from the dark. He's carrying a travel mug, which Chan accepts gratefully, "Your mom sent me to bring you that."

It’s tea, warm and comforting, from his mom's garden.

"Thank you," Chan says sincerely, holding the mug up to his face to warm it. Felix hesitates, his hands in his pockets.

"Can I walk with you?"

Chan looks up in surprise.

"Don't you want to go back inside? It's late and it's freezing."

Felix shakes his head, burrowing his nose in his knit scarf.

"Couldn't sleep.”

They don't talk, just walk side by side as Chan continues from stone to stone. It's nice, actually, having someone here with him instead of being left alone with his thoughts.

The tea is nice too, and it keeps him warm for a bit, but once he finishes it he's cold again, and he notices that Felix is shivering too.

"Go back inside, Felix," Chan says, "You're freezing."

"M'fine," Felix says, but he's shaking. Chan rubs his hands over Felix's shoulders and upper arms, trying to warm him up.

"Do you think you could fit me in your coat?" Felix says, and Chan has to walk himself back through that to make sure he hadn't misheard.

"C'mon," Felix says, taking his hands out of his pockets and going for Chan's zipper. Chan stops him, pushes his hands away, bewildered.

Felix gives Chan his big sad pouty eyes, and Chan relents. Maybe he is just cold. He unzips his jacket and holds it open, letting Felix step into the circle of his arms. He makes space for himself there right away, like he’d never left. He curls his arms between their chests and buries his face in Chan's neck, pressing his ice cold nose against Chan's skin.

Felix groans and Chan has to fight the urge to shove him away, all the systems in his brain flashing big red warning lights. His whole body feels locked, his hands resting safely on Felix's upper back.

"Zip it back up a little, I'm dying," Felix says, and Chan can feel the rumble of his voice in his ribcage. He tries to laugh but it comes out as a sort of strangled cough.

"No, I gotta keep going, Felix," Chan says.

 _Please,_ he thinks, _Please leave me out here to suffer alone so I don't do anything I regret._

Felix's body is so warm against his and Chan wants so badly to just let go and relax into him. Wants to find comfort in the only part of his home that's ever felt like it belonged to him.

Felix breathes in deep, and Chan can feel the rise and fall, the expansion of his ribcage. He's so fucking small. When he's not pressed against Chan's chest, he looks bigger, older, like the adult he just barely is. But under Chan's hands he feels so goddamn tiny.

"You know what your problem is," Felix says, "You think too much."

He wiggles around in Chan's arms until he's looking up into his face.

"You can tell me, you know," Felix whispers, "What you're thinking about. You can tell me anything."

Chan shakes his head. He swallows. He can't look at Felix anymore. He wants to run away, wants to hold Felix closer, wants to kiss his dry, cracked lips, wants to-

"Chan," Felix says, low and commanding, "Look at me."

He does, eyes snapping back to Felix's. Felix presses one hand against Chan's chest.

"Breathe, Chan," he says, "Focus on me. Just me."

Chan can't breathe, can't move. _Wants_. And Felix is right there, sweet and perfect and looking up at him with wide brown eyes, full of concern. He untangles one arm from where it's trapped between them and places it gently at the back of Chan's neck. Chan's heart is actually going to explode, it's beating so hard he can hear it in his ears, a steady frantic pump of blood.

Felix presses their foreheads together, rubs his nose against Chan's. Chan gasps, lips parting.

"Can. Can I-" Felix breathes, and Chan just nods. One jerk of his head.

And Felix kisses him.

It's cold, and dry and Felix is kissing him too hard, but Chan doesn't care. He clutches Felix to him, fingertips digging into his back. He kisses him back, slipping his tongue between Felix's lips. Felix opens his mouth with a sigh and wraps both arms around Chan's neck.

Chan kisses and kisses him, his hands on Felix's waist over his sweatshirt.

And he's stupid, and he shouldn't be doing this, but Felix asked, and Felix kissed _him_ and-

 _God_ he'd think of any excuse to get to keep doing exactly this.

Felix makes this sweet little whine, and it raises every hair on Chan's body.

Chan licks further into his mouth, tightening his hold on Felix so that he's lifting him up onto his tiptoes, crushing him into his chest.

He only stops when he literally cannot take it anymore, when he feels heat pooling in his stomach, when he has to resist the urge to roll his hips up against Felix's too-warm body.

Chan steps back an inch, releasing his tight grip, letting Felix settle back onto his heels. Felix flushes shyly and hides his face in Chan's neck. Chan can feel how hot Felix's cheeks are, how wet and warm his mouth is.

Chan hugs him, really hugs him this time, and then turns his head and kisses Felix on the forehead. He leaves his mouth there for a moment, just feeling Felix's rapid breathing against his chest.

"I was kinda scared you were going to say no," Felix says finally.

"Never," Chan says, and he means it with all that he is. 

Felix kisses him quickly, a peck on the corner of his mouth. Then he's stepping away, tightening his scarf around his face. He's blushing, hard, under his freckles, and Chan knows that he's probably supposed to say something now, but his tongue is so heavy in his mouth, so he just tries to smile.

Felix gives him an awkward little wave and disappears back the way he came.

Chan finishes his rounds by himself, cradling his palm around the curve of each stone but feeling instead the dip at the base of Felix's spine, the gentle curve of his neck.

* * *

When Chan can't find Felix the next afternoon, he knows where to look. He's supposed to be studying, memorizing protective sigils, but his father won't notice if he steps out and makes it back to the library before dinner time.

When Chan gets to the ruins, Felix is reading under an elm tree, his jacket tossed to the side, along with his shoes and socks.

Chan marvels, not for the first time, at how beautiful Felix really is. He stands at the entrance for a moment, not sure what to say.

"I can see you," Felix calls without looking up from his book. Chan ducks his head, his cheeks burning. How has one kiss from Felix turned him into this nervous mess?

"I was looking for you," Chan says, coming to sit under the tree next to Felix. He shrugs out of his coat and spreads it out underneath him before he sits down.

Felix puts one finger in the book he's reading and turns to look at Chan, his cheek resting on his bent knee. Chan recognizes the jeans that Felix is wearing as a pair that used to belong to him. Most items of clothing in the house are hand-me-downs, especially Felix's. They're a soft light blue, slightly too large, and Felix has them cuffed at the bottom. Chan looks at his bony ankles because it's easier than looking at his face.

He's so goddamn nervous he doesn't know where to put his hands and his palms are sweating. He should say something, right? He probably has to say something.

Felix is once again his saving grace, putting his book to the side and resting his hand in the grass, palm up, halfway between him and Chan. A request.

Chan lets out a nervous chuckle and takes Felix's hand in his.

"Are we-," Chan coughs, clearing his throat, his cheeks burning, "We're good, yeah?"

Felix laughs, a low breathy thing, and Chan looks up at him. He's smiling, but there's a tightness around his eyes that tells Chan he's nervous too.

Felix squeezes Chan's hand.

"Think so."

"What did you need me for?"

"Huh?" Chan asks, a little hazily. Felix giggles. He’s so pretty.

"You said you were looking for me," Felix says, and Chan frowns.

"I uh," he starts, "I forgot to think of a good excuse on the way over here."

“That’s okay,” Felix says, “I have something to show you.”

“Oh yeah?” Chan’s mouth is completely dry. How is Felix fine? What confidence has Felix tapped into and how does he get some?

He’s been trying not to want Felix for years, telling himself that he’s off-limits, and here’s Felix, wanting him, kissing him, holding his hand with such security in himself that it makes Chan jealous. But he’s glad, too, that in this at least, he doesn’t have to lead.

Felix pulls him to his feet, leads him to the center of the clearing, walking backwards the whole way, his bare feet barely making noise in the soft grass. There’s a breeze in the ruins today, and everything smells like flowers, clean and growing.

Felix smiles dangerously, then reaches his arm up until it’s fully extended and turns his hand like he’s removing a lightbulb. There’s a creak of wood, and a sound that Chan has come to associate with the rapid growth of plants, a sound almost like grass rustling, only louder.

Behind Felix, a skinny tree grows up and then out, twigs expanding a perfect fractal pattern. It grows above their heads, trunk thickening. Chan has to crane his head backwards to watch it. When it stops, it’s impressively tall, and Chan walks around it, admiring it. He doesn’t think he could fit his arms around it if he tried.

“Wow, Felix,” Chan says, “This is. Amazing.”

Felix smiles shyly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He’s skating back and forth between confident and shy. Chan wants him to pick one so he can decide which one he is. He reaches a hand out and trails his fingers along the rough bark, circling the tree until he gets back to where Felix is standing.

“ _Chan,”_ Felix says, and Chan stops. He doesn’t know what to say or do, or what Felix wants, but he knows he sounds hurt and all he knows to do when Felix is hurting is hold him. So he opens his arms, and Felix heaves a sigh of relief as he comes forward, wrapping his arms around Chan’s neck. Chan holds him delicately, his arms loosely around his waist.

He smells like grass and _home_. Felix moves in his arms, looks up at him, then down at his mouth. Chan swears he feels his heart flutter.

Felix leans in closer, then stops, bumping their noses together. Chan tightens his hold on Felix, fingers spread out across his back, just over where his shirt is tucked into his jeans.

“Um,” Chan says, his breath catching in his throat as Felix comes closer, “This is a. A bad idea.”

“Yeah,” Felix says, nodding, bumping his forehead against Chan’s. Chan won’t make the first move. He can’t. He knows what Felix wants, now, or he thinks he does. He doesn’t know a more obvious way to ask to be kissed, but he doesn’t want to assume anything.

Felix finally kisses him again and it feels like a gasp of breath, a long exhale. Chan pulls him in closer, kissing him deeper, pressing Felix's body against his. He walks them backwards until Felix's back bumps up against the trunk of the tree.

Chan rucks up Felix's shirt and slips his hands underneath. Felix sighs contentedly at the contact and Chan takes advantage, licks his mouth open.

Chan works his hand higher, slipping over Felix's ribs, squeezing at his skin. He feels vicious, predatory, hungry. He wants to devour Felix, whole.

" _Chan_ ," Felix says as Chan kisses down his jaw, sucks at the delicate skin of his throat. Felix tangles his fingers in Chan's hair, pulling just shy of too hard, "Chan. I can't, I can't stand up."

He's blushing, and Chan holds him up, leaning back.

"Do you want to stop?" Chan asks, hands stilling on Felix's back. Felix shakes his head emphatically.

"N-no," Felix says, "Can we lie down?"

"Yeah, of course," Chan says, "You're sure you're okay?"

"Yes, yes, please keep touching me," Felix says, fingers tugging desperately at Chan's hair, "All I've ever wanted."

Chan's heart pounds right up against his ribcage as he lays Felix down on his jacket, spread out on the grass underneath the big tree. He's the most lovely thing Chan has ever seen, he thinks.

"Chan," Felix says again, reaching for him, and Chan lets himself go.

He covers Felix's body with his and kisses him. He doesn't know what he's doing, never done anything like this before with anyone, but he won’t allow himself to mess this up, not when it matters so much. Not when it’s _Felix_ he’s touching.

He wants to treat Felix like he's delicate, made of glass, but at the same time, he wants to lose himself in the warmth and softness of the body beneath him.

Chan kisses Felix's neck again, sucks his skin between his teeth. He kisses and licks down his neck and pulls at the collar of his shirt, stretching it to get access to more of Felix's skin. He wants to taste all of him.

He tastes like that first taste of magic, the first one he remembers, warm and hot like a mouth full of blood. Like the first time Chan remembers being sure of what he was, of the power he had in his veins, his family's magic strong and sure, thrumming like music under his skin.

Felix gets his hands under Chan and grabs the hem of his shirt, tugging on it. Chan sits back again and Felix whines.

"Are you sure?"

Felix sits up just enough to pull off his own shirt, flinging it carelessly into the grass. His chest is flushed, and Chan wants to map the little moles all over his body. He belongs here, in the woods, a gentle, wild thing. Chan still can't quite believe he gets to touch him.

" _Please_ ," Felix begs. He starts to unbutton his pants, wiggle them down over his hips, but Chan catches his hands, stops him.

"We don't have to do anything, Lix," Chan says, pressing his thumbs into Felix's palms, "We can just do this."

Felix frowns, a little line appearing between his eyebrows. He bucks his hips up into Chan's, and Chan can feel how hard he is, can imagine how much it hurts, how much he needs relief. But that doesn't mean Felix wants this. Doesn't mean Felix wants him.

"I’m not a kid," Felix protests, brow furrowed in concentration.

"I know you’re not. I just need you to say it," Chan says, "Use your words and tell me what you want. I need you to be sure."

"I know what I want. I know who I want. And it's always been you."

Chan feels something tender and raw, something he works so hard to keep under wraps, come to the surface.

He loves Felix.

He kisses him again, drops down onto his elbows so their bodies are fully pressed together. Felix is warm and squirming underneath him and Chan can't stop thinking about holding him steady, working him open and sinking into him. But that can wait.

Felix keeps bucking his hips up, grinding his hardness against Chan's lower stomach, trying to get friction. When Chan slips his hand under Felix's waistband, he's so wet already, leaking in his boxers.

Chan coos at how cute he is like this, and it's obvious how far gone Felix is that his only response is a frustrated whine. Chan kisses down Felix's bare chest, sucking little red marks into his skin where nobody else will see them.

His belly is soft as silk, perfect under Chan's mouth, his skin warm and inviting.

His mouth fills with saliva at the taste of him, at the smell of him as Chan noses at his hip bones. He can smell his arousal, feel the hot hard heat of it in his hand.

Chan undoes the button of Felix's pants, pulls them down along with his underwear.

Chan takes him into his mouth, and Felix's body arches up to meet him, his hands frantically grabbing at Chan's curls.

He’s drooling so much already that the slide is wet and easy. Felix thrusts between his lips, sloppy and off tempo, spurting more precome onto Chan's tongue. Chan swallows it greedily, licks up the side of him, kissing sloppily at the tip.

"You taste so good," Chan says, pulling off, and Felix keens, twisting his fingers into Chan's hair, trying to direct Chan’s mouth back to his cock. He'd laugh, but he understands the desperation. Can see it all over Felix's face, can hear it in the noises he’s making, little panting whines that go right to Chan's own dick, "S'okay, sunshine, I got you. I got you. Let go."

Chan takes him in his mouth again, savors the weight of him on his tongue. His Felix. His. He swallows around him, sucking hard, and Felix shoves Chan's head down, forcing his cock into the back of Chan's throat, and then he’s coming, filling Chan's mouth with it, hot and sudden.

Chan takes it all. Swallows it down and runs his tongue across the head of Felix's cock, licking up the last few drops.

Felix releases his hold on Chan's hair, hands falling at his sides, breath coming in pants. Chan lays down on his side next to him, brushing his hair back, and presses a sloppy kiss to Felix's open mouth.

"Perfect, so perfect," Chan murmurs, and Felix hums, his eyes fluttering shut as Chan plays with his hair.

Felix comes back down a few minutes later, curls into Chan’s chest.

“We gotta go back,” Chan says, as gently as he can manage. Felix frowns and Chan kisses it away, “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t want to leave either.”

“I feel like I just got you,” Felix says, “I’m not ready to share you again.”

“You’ve always had me,” Chan says, and Felix smiles. Oh, Chan would do anything for that smile.

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” Felix asks, and fear runs, cold, down Chan’s spine. He doesn’t want to think about what his father, his brothers would do if they caught them. But Felix looks so hopeful, and Chan can’t bring himself to take that from him. Can’t bring himself to ruin this moment.

“Yeah, Felix, of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> i will definitely return to this world at some point but this is what i have for now!! 
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/bloombloompowie)


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